


The Guessing Game

by Bluemedallion



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: 80s movies, 80s references, Anxious Shawn Spencer, Bisexual Shawn Spencer, Character Study, Dialogue, Dialogue Heavy, Friendship, Light Angst, Movie Reference, Musical References, No Romance, OOC Shawn Spencer, Pop Culture, Relationship Study, TV Show References, the angst is like very vague and in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemedallion/pseuds/Bluemedallion
Summary: Shawn and Gus have a phone call.
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 12





	1. Final Version

**Author's Note:**

> this was literally just a dialogue study sdkfhdskf their dynamic is literally so difficult to manage and I literally had to do a study or a practice for it.
> 
> this was actually part of a slightly bigger story I had where I was trying to push the boundaries of shawns character and see what I could make believable, but it didn't really work. it was my first time writing him so lowkey i pushed too hard but lmao.
> 
> I cut the first part off and left it with just this, cause I think this is actually pretty good. i might post the uncut version? in like the second chapter maybe? it really doesn't work but idk.
> 
> I'm also too lazy to edit it all lmao.
> 
> be warned that it still may be a lil rough because this was written as part of a bigger story!
> 
> pop culture references will be in the notes down below
> 
> anyways enjoy!!!

Shawn all but ran out of the grocery store, gay-person power-walking ( _“that’s offensive, Shawn.” “No it’s not, a lesbian told me I walked like I was gay and in a hurry and I’ve never felt more complimented in my life.”_ ) until he could throw himself into Gus' car and slam the door shut. He groaned loudly, setting the paper bag on top of some probably-not-important documents in the shotgun seat. He leaned his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes.

After taking a couple of slow breaths he turned his head to the side, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He typed in his password (it was “ _punxsutawney_ ” this week) and entered his recent calls. Bypassing his three calls to _Ignacio’s Mexican Bar and Grill_ (apparently they still didn’t deliver. He should probably ask again), he clicked on the fourth most recent and waited for Gus to pick up.

“Shawn?”

“Gus? Hey, Gus? Gus? Burton Guster? Burton Guster, I thought that was you! Hey, hey… now, don't you tell me you don't remember me because I sure as heckfire remember you.” Shawn leaned back against the headrest.

“...Ned?” Gus responded, then attempted to make a punching sound with his mouth. It sounded more like a faulty radio.

“Right movie, wrong scene. For shame, Gus.”

“You changed the quote, Shawn. It confused me.”

“I would have got it.”

“You would not have. ...Don’t mess with me, porkchop.”

“What day is it, it's February second. Gus, same movie, really?” Shawn quoted, his voice bored.

“Fine! ...I was just gonna walk on by, when suddenly, and without warning, there was this…”

“...” Shawn blinked in thought.

“Ha!”

“No, I got it! Total eclipse of the sun!” he jumped forward, quoting in sing-song.

“Too late, Shawn!”

“Since when was there a time limit on the guessing game?”

“Since now, Shawn.” Gus happy-danced, Shawn could hear him shuffling through the phone.

“Gus, don’t be a kid's quesadilla with only cheese. Also, that doesn’t count anyway cause it was a musical.”

“It was a movie!”

“It was a musical first.”

“No, it was a movie first, in 1960. Then it was made into a musical in 1982, then it was remade into a movie in 1986, which is the most popular version.”

“How do you know this much about a musical?”

“How do you _not_ know this? Jack Nicholson was in it!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, Shawn. Also, I happen to _like_ musicals.”

“So you admit it’s a musical.”

“...Shawn, why are you calling me?” Gus finally asked with a huff.

Shawn let out a quiet sigh, blinking his eyes harshly. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, then ran it through his hair. He took a glance at his grocery bag. The milk jug had fallen over, squishing his bread.

“Fuck.” Shawn reached over to fix it.

“Shawn?”

“Sorry, doctor! Doctor! Sorry, doctor.” Shawn shot up, shaking out his arms. “Hey, I just got groceries. I was thinking about going to that Mexican place for lunch. Want me to pick you up something?”

“...Yeah, sure.”

“Great. Burritos?”

“You know that’s right.”

“Sick nasty. And after that, we’ll hit up the station. There's a new murder that got discovered at butt o'clock this morning.”

“Shawn…” Gus warned.

“Love you too bye!” Shawn yelled, hanging up and throwing his phone in the back seat. He heard his phone buzz (Gus sending a complaint, no doubt) and ignored it. Leaning his head back once again, he dragged a hand down his face. Talking with Gus was a mental refresh button. He shook his head, motorboating with his lips.

With a final sigh, he lightened up his expression and turned on the radio, letting Boy George (his first male celebrity crush, not counting Lion-O from ThunderCats on account of him not being real. He definitely should count as a celebrity though, despite what Gus thought) fill the car. Bopping his head to the music, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed off towards Ignacio’s. As he turned the corner, the milk jug fell down again.


	2. Extended Version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, I looked back over this document and decided even though this didn't really work too well why not post it anyways. a lil explanation is needed.
> 
> First of all, this is the first half of the chapter I posted originally. I cut the thing in half and posted that as its own fic. This is the uncut version. In the middle it picks up Directly where the first chapter started. I'm posting it in full instead of just the first chapter just for ease of reading.
> 
> When writing this, even though it was my first time writing shawn's character I attempted to try doubling up my practice: practicing dialogue study between Gus and Shawn while ALSO pushing the limits of Shawn's character.  
> In this case I attempted to write Shawn with social anxiety convincingly. I have social anxiety, and this was lowkey my attempt to project. It seems like a stretch for sure, and it ended up that way too. I think it was a good idea, but perhaps too much for my first attempt at writing him which is why I cut the anxiety centric bit out and focused on the dialogue study.  
> So I don't think the portrayal of anxiety, though an accurate portrayal, fits SHAWN in particular's character.
> 
> TL;DR: its lowkey ooc lmao
> 
> I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Shawn Spencer is a loud guy. Like, a really loud guy. That’s a fact that that has been proven repeatedly. Shawn Spencer is a man who has no qualms and no regrets, charging headfirst into a improvisational flounce around the police station, the crime scene, the Psych office, pretty much anywhere Shawn can solve a crime; he will burst into a loud accusation. A correct accusation, of course.

Many people could comment on Shawn’s loudness. If Head Detective Carlton Lassiter were to be asked, he would probably say something along the lines of, “Spencer is the most obnoxious human being I have ever had the displeasure of ‘working’ with. If you can call it working, anyway, when all he does is drape himself over every viable object and fake a seizure before making some stupid accusation, giving me hours of paperwork.”

If Shawn’s best friend Gus were to be asked the same question, he would probably say something like, “I’m used to it.”

If Police Chief Karen Vick were to be asked, she would definitely say, “I don’t care how he does it, he gets results. It can be… grating, sure, but he’s good at what he does.”

If Shawn were to hear any of their responses, he would probably go into an affronted shock, moaning to anyone who would listen about his traitorous co-workers. And then proceed to be extra loud and obnoxious around said co-workers, just to get on their nerves.

So never let it be said that Shawn wasn't a loud guy. He was. A screaming, attention-seeking, dramatic explosion of a person. Mostly.

The slight thudding of a milk jug against the cheap plastic baskets followed Shawn as he walked down the grocery store, glancing at each of the registers in turn.

Number one was empty. Number two was empty. Number three was empty too, sheesh.

Number four had two people in line. The cashier was mid-teens, bitten nails, slow movements, new to the job. Probably started within the week. The second person in line was a woman with an ass the size of a truck and a cart even bigger. No bueno.

Number five had three people in line, yikes. Numbers six through eight were all empty.

Number nine had a cashier with the kind of smile that had seen endless horrors and was straining to not burst into tears. Perfect for customer service. Plus, only one customer was in line. Balding, middle-aged man. His cart was full of beans, tomato sauce, and mushrooms. Shawn furrowed his eyebrows. He sniffed the air to confirm his theory. No thanks.

Number ten had a nice-looking woman cashier, looking at her phone under the counter, unmarried. She had been serving a small boy and his father, who just then thanked the bagger and carried their bags out. Jackpot.

A tired-looking woman with two quiet children following her turned nearly into register number ten. Damnit.

At the very end were the self-checkout registers. Shawn scoffed at them in disgust. He had long since noticed the "closed for maintenance" sign, along with chains preventing anyone from going in. He had to do this the old fashioned way.

Shawn turned into an aisle. Father, mother, daughter. Late thirties, early forties, and two-three, respectively. No dice. Shawn feigned forgetfulness and exited quickly, glancing into the neighboring aisle. Empty. Shawn walked in quickly and leaned against the shelves, taking out his phone. The screen stays black.

After a few minutes had passed Shawn made his way back to the front, checking out each register again. He repeated this process. And again. Finally, on the fourth cycle, a mid-twenties gay couple (matching rings, duh) exited number ten just and Shawn walked up, allowing Shawn a brief second to gulp before sliding into place.

"Hello! I hope you found everything well." Great. He slid his basket onto the little basket-place-thingy.

"Hey, yeah." Shawn said with a practiced grin.

"That's nice to hear! Do you have a rewards card?"

"No." Fuck, yes he did. He and Gus shared one.

"Would you like to get one, sir?"

"Ah, no thank you." He smiled again.

"Alright! Not much today, have we? Just the bare essentials." The cashier laughed in the way only early 90s teen movie girls and PTA moms do as she pulled out Shawn's milk and bread to scan.

"Ha, nope." What.

The cashier silently scanned his items, and Shawn felt perspiration on his neck.

"Would you like that in paper or plastic?" The bagger asked with a nasal voice. Acne scars, broad shoulders. Aged fifteenish, first job. Football? Rugby, more likely. No girlfriend. Oh, rainbow bracelet, gay. No boyfriend either.

"Oh, uh, paper please." Shawn cringed as he said it. The bagger halted, putting back his already-grabbed plastic bag to pick up a paper bag. He could have taken plastic.

"That'll be $6.23!" The cashier chirped. Shawn was beginning to hate her. He pulled out a wrinkled ten-dollar bill from his pocket, having already been put there in preparation. He handed it over.

She hit some buttons confidently, before handing over his receipt along with three crisp dollar bills, a dime, a nickel, and two pennies. Fumbling, Shawn pulled his wallet out and began to hastily shove the coins and such into it. Two people had lined up behind him.

"Have a great day!" The cashier smiled. Normally, Shawn would have been taking this opportunity to flirt his ass off. But he didn't have Gus, and he was dropping coins.

"Oh, sorry." He mumbled, bending down to pick up the dime. He heard a grumble from the man last in line. His breath quickened. He hastily shoved his wallet and coins in his pocket, grabbing the thick-handled paper bag.

"Uh, you too." He said quickly as he darted out of the area, even though it was too late to respond by then. She looked at him a bit confused before nodding and turning to the next person with a greeting on her lips.

Shawn all but ran out of the grocery store, gay-person power-walking ( _that’s offensive, Shawn.” “No it’s not, a lesbian told me I walked like I was gay and in a hurry and I’ve never felt more complemented in my life.”_ ) until he could throw himself into Gus' car and slam the door shut. He groaned loudly, setting the paper bag on top of some probably-not-important documents in the shotgun seat. He leaned his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes.

After taking a couple of slow breaths he turned his head to the side, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He typed in his password (it was “ _punxsutawney_ ” this week) and entered his recent calls. Bypassing his three calls to _Ignacio’s Mexican Bar and Grill_ (apparently they still didn’t deliver. He should probably ask again), he clicked on the fourth most recent and waited for Gus to pick up.

“Shawn?”

“Gus? Hey, Gus? Gus? Burton Guster? Burton Guster, I thought that was you! Hey, hey… now, don't you tell me you don't remember me because I sure as heckfire remember you.” Shawn leaned back against the headrest.

“...Ned?” Gus responded, then attempted to make a punching sound with his mouth. It sounded more like a faulty radio.

“Right movie, wrong scene. For shame, Gus.”

“You changed the quote, Shawn. It confused me.”

“I would have got it.”

“You would not have. ...Don’t mess with me, porkchop.”

“What day is it, it's February second. Gus, same movie, really?” Shawn quoted, his voice bored.

“Fine! ...I was just gonna walk on by, when suddenly, and without warning, there was this…”

“...” Shawn blinked in thought.

“Ha!”

“No, I got it! Total eclipse of the sun!” he jumped forward, quoting in sing-song.

“Too late, Shawn!”

“Since when was there a time limit on the guessing game?”

“Since now, Shawn.” Gus happy-danced, Shawn could hear him shuffling through the phone.

“Gus, don’t be a kid's quesadilla with only cheese. Also, that doesn’t count anyway cause it was a musical.”

“It was a movie!”

“It was a musical first.”

“No, it was a movie first, in 1960. Then it was made into a musical in 1982, then it was remade into a movie in 1986, which is the most popular version.”

“How do you know this much about a musical?”

“How do you _not_ know this? Jack Nicholson was in it!”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, Shawn. Also, I happen to _like_ musicals.”

“So you admit it’s a musical.”

“...Shawn, why are you calling me?” Gus finally asked with a huff.

Shawn let out a quiet sigh, blinking his eyes harshly. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, then ran it through his hair. He took a glance at his grocery bag. The milk jug had fallen over, squishing his bread.

“Fuck.” Shawn reached over to fix it.

“Shawn?”

“Sorry, doctor! Doctor! Sorry, doctor.” Shawn shot up, shaking out his arms. “Hey, I just got groceries. I was thinking about going to that Mexican place for lunch. Want me to pick you up something?”

“...Yeah, sure.”

“Great. Burritos?”

“You know that’s right.”

“Sick nasty. And after that, we’ll hit up the station. There's a new murder that got discovered at butt o'clock this morning.”

“Shawn…” Gus warned.

“Love you too bye!” Shawn yelled, hanging up and throwing his phone in the back seat. He heard his phone buzz (Gus sending a complaint, no doubt) and ignored it. Leaning his head back once again, he dragged a hand down his face. Talking with Gus was a mental refresh button. He shook his head, motorboating with his lips.

With a final sigh, he lightened up his expression and turned on the radio, letting Boy George (his first male celebrity crush, not counting Lion-O from ThunderCats on account of him not being real. He definitely should count as a celebrity though, despite what Gus thought) fill the car. Bopping his head to the music, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed off towards Ignacio’s. As he turned the corner, the milk jug fell down again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so thats it lmao. 
> 
> since I cut it, the final product ended up a little cryptic without the explanations of what was causing Shawn's stress.  
> Hopefully this explains it lmao  
> gonna be real the milk jug symbolism is one of my favorite bits I love it
> 
> comment if you have any thoughts!!!!! they give me dopamine :):)<3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading!!!
> 
> The media referenced is as follows, in order of mention:  
> Groundhog Day (1993)  
> Little Shop of Horrors (1986) (and 1960 and 1982 lol)  
> Little Shop again, basically any quote was probably Little Shop  
> Boy George (80s singer)  
> Thundercats (1985-1989) (it was a tv show like he-man)
> 
> Ignacio's Mexican Bar and Grill is not a real place, I don't think. honestly it probably is, that's a common enough name. i made it up tho I wasn't actually naming a place
> 
> let me know what you think, comments are super super appreciated.
> 
> deuces


End file.
